


As Long As You're Mine

by writewithurheart



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: After Eadu, Based on a song, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Found Family, Implied Sexual Content, Missing Scene, Sexual Content, Yavin IV, before Scarif
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 22:29:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11022903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: After her father's death on Eadu, Jyn  has some heavy things to think about regarding the Alliance and a certain rebel captain who has gotten under her skin. Time is not on their side though, and decisions must be made, actions taken if they are ever to destroy the Death Star.Or: the missing scenes between Eadu and the Council meeting.





	As Long As You're Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writetheniteaway](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writetheniteaway/gifts).



> This is a gift fic for my irl bestie, who turned to me and went: "As Long As You're Mine" (from Wicked) but with Rebelcaptain...So this is all her fault. 
> 
> And a huge thank you to youareiron-andyouarestrong on tumblr for being my beta on this piece! <3

**As Long As You’re Mine**

Cold.

Hollow.

_ Empty _ .

She’d cry if she thought she could, but the tears which seem so close to the surface refuse to fall, staying just under her skin, flooding her,  _ drowning _ her. Each clear breath surprises her, erupting in a sob, tearing her chest out at the injustice. Her father, the good man who sacrificed himself to send into to the rebels, who sabotaged the Empire’s great planet killer. He shouldn’t have died. It should have been her. She’s not useful, not to Saw, not to the Rebellion. Her father could have helped bring down the Death Star. But her?

All Jyn is good for is bait. The Rebellion wanted her to get to Saw, to get to her father. She was just a former soldier, and not one for the Rebellion. She was just a burden.

Jyn stares into the cockpit of the stolen Imperial cargo ship, at the back of Bodhi’s head. Bodhi Rook, the pilot, the deserter who left everything he’d ever known because he couldn’t stomach what the Empire was doing any longer. Saw had destroyed his mind for it, and yet he’s still here, fighting.

She’s never had something she believed in that much. She didn’t like the Empire, but after Saw abandoned her, she wasn’t a huge supporter of the Rebellion either. How could they turn a child into a soldier and then abandon her? War was all she’d ever known. The violence and fear erased the few years of happiness she’d had with her parents. That moment broke her, it crushed something in her soul. She learned from that moment to only look after herself. She kept her head down, ignored the problems that didn’t affect her. What had the world ever done for her?

_ It’s not a problem if you don’t look up _ .

Part of her had actually believed that.

Jyn’s eyes flick to Captain Cassian Andor. A stormtrooper, she called him for following orders. He was a soldier, just like she was once, and maybe she was projecting. She’d been there. She’d done unforgiveable things in the name of Saw’s rebellion. She’d witnessed death and gore far too young, killed her first man at ten, set fatal explosives before that. She knew what it was to live the life of a soldier. You buried everything under the cause: your feelings, hopes, dreams. And Saw had destroyed that devotion the day he left her in that building with only a blaster. She swore to never rely so much on anyone or anything ever again.

Deep, deep down she knows how hard it must have been for Cassian to choose not to follow that order. She knows she wouldn’t have been that strong, but it was still Alliance guns that killed her father.

Ultimately, though, she has no one to blame, no one she can hit hard enough to make her father’s death hurt less. The only thing she can do to make this hollowness feel better, the solace she’ll find is in acting. She has to finish what her father started. She must destroy the Death Star.

The jolt of the cargo ship touching down on Yavin IV jolts her from her thoughts. She shifts in her seat, uneasy with her decision.

They have to get the Death Star plans. They have to go to Scarif.

“I have to report to General Dravin,” Cassian announces, eyes lingering on her. “Kay will direct you to where you’ll stay until you decide to leave. Someone from the Alliance will debrief you.”

“Cassian…“ His name was out of her mouth before she could think. She just couldn’t stand the guarded, hurt look in his eyes as they looked over at her. She lashed out in pain after her father’s death, but the truth is, Cassian is the one who came back. He didn’t need to after she took him to Saw, after they got to Eadu. He could have left her with her father on Eadu, left her to die. He hadn’t needed her anymore, and yet he  _ came back _ .

His eyes, filled with sadness, stare at her for a moment before he turns away. “The Alliance will likely discuss what to do in light of this new information.” His eyes dart back to hers for a moment before he sweeps off the cargo ship and over to General Draven. 

Chirrut stands, leaning on his staff. With an air of gravity, he straightens and says: “The choices made in the next few hours will determine the course of history.” 

Bodhi looks as confused as Jyn feels about that ominous pronouncement. Jyn’s eyes flit to Baze to see if he can make heads or tails of that statement, but the older assassin just looks exasperated. 

“Why do you feel the need to say stuff like that?” 

“The Force lingers on moments of great importance,” Chirrut says, as if that explains his statement before he walks to the exit ramp. He pauses when he reaches Jyn, as if he really could see her. His hand lands on her forearm and squeezes. “Your father’s sacrifice will not be for naught.” 

Somehow, those words soothe her soul and bring a fresh wave of tears directly to the surface. She smiles, places a hand over his in acknowledgement. Baze similarly grips her shoulder in solidarity and deference to her pain. Their support means more than she can vocalize. It reminds her of her parents when she was younger and everything was happy. 

She wipes at her face to banish any evidence of emotion before she faces the whole of the Rebel base once more.

“Uh…Jyn?”

Her hand falls to her blaster as she spins to face the nervous voice, stopping just short of drawing her weapon when she recognizes the startled expression on Bodhi’s face. Right. She’s not alone. Her hand drops off the blaster, but her muscles don’t truly unclench. She’s too jittery. “Bodhi?”

“I just wanted to say sorry, about your dad. He was…a friend, a good friend.” Bodhi shoves his hands into his pockets. His foot scuffs against the groun d and he stares at the spot the dirt leaves on the metal floor. “He got me out, when I was stuck and I needed to tell you that.”

Emotion that had been pushed down with her renewed sense of purpose comes roaring back in full force. Tears that she thought had been suppressed slip out and Jyn reaches out without thinking, pulling the pilot into a hug. Poor Bodhi has no idea how to react and stands there stiff in her arms.

Jyn pulls back, wiping at her eyes. She swipes at her eyes and the slight dripping of her nose. “Thank, Bodhi. I’m just gonna…debrief.” Anything to not have to deal with the awkwardness of emotions, even talk to the leadership whose star fighters had killed her father. She’s over it.

She has a new goal now, one that drives her. She’s going to honor her father by helping the Alliance destroy the Death Star.

…

“We will take this information to the Council.”

“What?” Jyn shouts, slamming her hands against the table as she jumps to her feet. “We need to act on this now! The longer we wait the more time they have to shore up defenses on Scarif.”

“The council needs to discuss this and weigh the pros and cons. We’re a democracy. There will be a public forum tomorrow morning, which you will be welcome to attend-“

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Jyn glares at Mon Mothma across the table. Her calm exterior infuriating in every aspect. They need to prepare now! Every minute that passes is another minute for Krennic to put two and two together. If they work fast, they can get in and out before the Empire has any idea what they’re looking for.

“In the morning, Miss Erso.” Mon Mothma speaks quietly, lips turn slightly up in a barely-there smile. “I’m sure you will have something to say. 0900 hours,” Mothma announces. She rises gracefully from her seat, hands folded neatly in front of her. “General Draven will find you with any further questions.”

With surreal grace, the chancellor sweeps from the room. Her long white robes swirl around her, the swish of fabric heralding her exit.

Jyn collapses back into her seat with a huff.

“Jyn Erso, I am here to take you to your cell.”

A snort of disbelief escapes her as she glares at the K2 droid now filling the doorway. “My cell? So I’m a prisoner now?”

“You are not to be trusted,” he states with that irksome robotic voice. “A cell would be the safest place for you.”

She’s going to fry the droid and break him up for spare parts. That is maybe the least helpful thing he’s ever said. All in all, he doesn’t seem to be that helpful. Well, other than the saving their butts in the streets of Jedha. So maybe he was somewhat useful. 

“You might be right, but the Alliance broke me out of a cell for a reason.”

“Yes. To find Saw Gerrera. You aided us in that mission. Your part is finished. You are a distraction.”

“You don’t like me.” Jyn leans back in her chair, resting her feet on the table, ankles crossed. She’s needling him now, of course. It’s a surprising amount of fun. The more annoyed he gets, the more amusing his responses.

“You are unpredictable and hazardous. Your involvement threatens the integrity of my calculations and any mission you embark on for the Alliance. Currently there is a sixty six percent chance you will destroy this base in retaliation for the death of your father.”

“You say the nicest things, Kay,” she intones. In all honesty, she considered revenge for a heartbeat, in that instant when she had thrown all her anger and grief at Cassian.

“Your attempt at humor is dismal.”

Jyn smirks. “It entertained  _ me. _ ” She hops up from her chair. “Where is Cassian?”

“The captain does not want to talk to you.”

He probably doesn’t, but that’s not going to stop her. She needs to apologize…or her version of it anyway, which might not be apologizing so much as making awkward conversation until they seem to be in a better place. And she’s not even sure she can do that successfully.

“I cannot let you wander around base. That is a breach of protocol.”

…

It’s the please that does it.

“It’s alright. I can take it from here, Kay.”

Truly, he doesn’t know what makes him say the words, He could stay in the shadows, lurking, avoiding the girl he’d defied orders for, the girl he ignored  _ Draven  _ for. And what had she done in response? Condemned him with a sentence:  _ no better than a Storm Trooper.  _ He lived so much of his life telling himself that his  _ cause _ , his fight, made him different, better. She’d destroyed it with one fearless sentence and confirmed his worst fears.

He thought he’d grown a tough skin, but Jyn…she somehow managed to cut right through his defenses. So much for the lauded intelligence officer.

He was tired. Tired of the spying, the killing, the endless sacrifice for a cause that refused to make any decisive moves out in the open. His whole life amounted to sneaking around to gather information. Here, what they had done, what they had learned...now was the time to act, not to sit around.  If they waited any longer the Empire would annihilate their rebellion before it had a chance to get off the ground. 

Yes, bureaucracy was important, votes and discussion, but sometimes he just wanted to shake the blasted politicians. Words and morals were good, but if those ideas were not bolstered by action, they were meaningless. It was one of the few reasons he liked General Draven, why he followed the man into some highly questionable situations. The man put the rebellion and the cause above everything, and he would act while the politicians continued to believe in the power of the Council, an already dead and corrupt system that only supported the Chancellor and his Empire. 

He doesn’t expect Jyn to understand why he stands with Draven and his orders, not after so many years when she’s been free to make her own decisions, to think for herself. She long ago abandoned the mindset of a soldier. But he knows she understands  _ action _ over pretty words. The woman is all about action. 

It’s part of what draws him to her. She has her own set of morals, outside of any government - Rebel Alliance or Empire - because the actions of both have alienated her in the past. But she does have morals, things she will act upon. He doesn’t even think she realizes just how much her words are a weapon, and how freely she wields them to win allies to her side. 

Maybe Cassian can only see it because he stands apart. He can see that the Guardians of the Whills are only with them because of her. They holds no close ties to the Alliance, only to her. And Bodhi Rook...Heck, even Kay is warming up to her in his own way. 

It’s her words and her actions that convince people to follow her. Her  _ convictions _ . 

Perhaps that’s why her words cut so deep when she called him a Stormtrooper.  

“Do you want to know the probability of escape?” 

Cassian shakes his head as he comes back to the conversation, aware that K2 attempted to educate him on the risks involved with allowing Jyn to run free. But she won’t run. Not now that her father’s efforts have given them a direction. If she had decided to run, they would know by now. 

“That’s fine, Kay.” 

“It’s high,” the droid responds in his usual, caustic manner. “Very high.” 

Cassian ignores him, nodding Jyn down along a hallway to the right. It’s mostly empty at this time of night and their footsteps echo in the cavernous tube. In his pockets, one of Cassian’s hands fiddles with his lock picks, the other preoccupied with curling into a fist so as not to grab hold of Jyn’s arm and pull her to a stop. 

He doesn’t know how to initiate this conversation when he’s not playing the role of spy. When he’s probing for information, it’s easy. 

They reach the hangar before either of them summons the courage to speak. It leaves them standing there at the mouth of the hallway as they stare into the large room and the open sky beyond. Stars glitter against a sky of dark blue.

It reminds him of cold nights on Fest, when he would huddle outside with his sister, risking frostbite so they could map constellations in the sky. Those were some of the happiest nights he can remember, when being so small in a vast universe wasn’t daunting but exciting. 

“About earlier…” Jyn breaks the silence and then stops abruptly. 

It’s against both of their natures to apologize, and neither of them really need to. 

“It’s fine,” he says, because it’s the truth. He’s not angry. He’s not even hurt anymore. There’s just that steadfast, driving need to  _ act _ . 

“No, it’s not.” Jyn takes a deep breath. “You came back.” 

Cassian stills, the whispered confession squeezes his heart in a vice and dredges up more emotion he’d like to forget.  _ He came back? _

“You could have left me there, on that Imperial landing pad, and no one here would have batted an eye, but you came back.” 

“Of course.” His hand moves without conscious thought, slips from his pocket and grabs his hand. But that’s not quite right. Draven wouldn’t have called off the air strike, or even attempted it, if he had known Jyn was the one on the platform. Despite her help with Saw Gerrera, she wasn’t one of them, not from Draven’s point of view. Kay would have told him to leave. Bodhi would have floundered, but Cassian hadn’t allowed his brain the time to think. He had reacted, and his whole being rebelled against the idea of losing Jyn. 

He sighs. He’s fallen completely under her thrall. “That’s what you do for family.” He can’t imagine doing this without her anymore. 

Jyn blinks at him, dumbfounded. Maybe it’s too soon to make such declarations, and he’s way out of his depth, but he knows no matter what that council decides, they’re going to Scarif tomorrow. He’s already sent out feelers among his fellow intelligence agents. All that’s left to do is wait. 

“We have to go to Scarif,” Jyn says, turning back to stare at the stars. Her hand stays clasped in Cassian’s, unexpectedly maintains the intimate contact as if it were normal in the bounds of their relationship. 

“I know,” he confesses, glad they’re on the same page. He squeezes her hand in a gesture of comfort: they both know this will be far from easy. “If there’s any hope for the Rebellion…” 

Emotion chokes his next words. Every mission he’s ever gone on for Draven, every risk he’s ever taken, it all comes down to this one suicide mission they don’t have the intelligence for, that they can’t get the information for because it’s too risky. They have no choice but to just strike, to fight until their dying breaths for a scrap of hope, for the survival of the Rebellion. 

It’s her turn to squeeze his hand, turn slightly to him - green eyes as bright as stars - and whisper: “Rebellions are built on hope.” 

Breath stolen by those simple words he once said in a Jedah marketplace what feels like eons ago, Cassian stares at her, lips parted in surprise as he comes to a monumental decision. She can have all of him: his heart, his soul, his dying breath. And if tonight is all they have left, he’s certainly not going to waste it on inaction. 

It’s his last coherent thought as he pivots to face her fully. She’s already turned to him, green eyes brimming with emotion, with belief in this same fight. Love, stronger than anything he’s ever felt since his family died, crashes into him and his hands move of their own volition,  cupping her face as he moves closer. Her eyes flutter shut as he leans down and their lips meet. 

For a moment, that soft, barely-there contact is enough. Lips on lips. Just a bit of pressure, but something monumental has shifted between them. The moment, whether it lasts seconds or minutes, will be forever ingrained in Cassian’s mind. He can feel every nerve ending in his body or possibly even the whole cosmos. He knows every point of contact between their bodies and he desperately refuses to pull away, to break the peace and the deep sense of rightness in his soul. 

Jyn breaks the moment with a startled gasp. 

Cassian’s eyes flutter open, hands raised between them as if they were still holding her face. Green, haunted eyes stare back at him, mouth open in shock. 

He wants to say something - anything - to take it back, to erase the moment and bring them back to easy camaraderie, but his heart refuses to apologize, to brush that kiss under the rug. He’s not about to lie, not here, not now. 

He swallows the words and slowly lowers his hands. It’s up to Jyn what to do with this. 

Jyn’s eyes harden as Cassian stares back, even in their little time together, he recognizes that look. She’s made a decision.

With the same determination she shows everything, Jyn strides forward, yanking Cassian down to her level with arms thrown around his neck. The suddenness of it catches him off guard for a moment, but the feel of Jyn pressed completely against him drags him back to the present quickly. His arms only falter for a moment before they wrap around her waist and press her even closer to his chest. 

Jyn groans in approval. Her hand moves to his cheek, nails scrape through stubble as her lips part against his, enticing him to do the same. 

The kiss only escalates from there, turns deeper. Hands wander over clothed flesh, and when that isn’t enough, start to remove the offending items. 

Somewhere, in the depths of his mind, Cassian has enough sentience to point them in the direction of his bunk. He vaguely remembers tripping over the threshold as his shirt hits the ground, throwing Jyn’s somewhere by the desk piled high with paperwork he hasn’t completed. 

There, in the middle of his sparse room, they pause, separated by inches, heavy breaths the only sound. Any words that might have been spoken, about the fleeting nature of tonight, were left to hang in the air, unsaid. 

“Just for tonight,” Jyn manages, voice just above a whisper, sent out like a prayer on an exhale. 

Cassian vows with those words to make every last moment last, for as long they have. Tonight might be their last night, and he’s going to make it count.

… 

Jyn wakes up warm for the first time in years. She’s used to cold that comes with a threadbare blanket, or the type of hot that leaves your clothing sticking to your skin with sweat. But this warmth is different. It’s comforting. It’s waking up to the knowledge that you’re safe, that you can take your time opening your eyes. 

She hasn’t felt that since the day her mother died. 

The body spooned against her back breathes lazily and Jyn allows herself the brief moment to relax. 

Last night was...unexpected...and wonderful. 

She’s not sure how much of the passion was borne of their imminent death on Scarif, and how much was emotionally driven. She cared about Cassian, more than she would have thought. It was more than that he had just come back for her. It was almost a pity they wouldn’t have more time to explore this. 

“Stop thinking so loudly.” 

Cassian’s voice, low and groggy with sleep against her neck, sends a shiver down Jyn’s spine, the delicious kind that makes her wish they didn’t have to leave the bed and reenter the cold cruel world. Her muscles ache as she twists around to face Cassian, head beside his on the pillow. 

“You’re not thinking about it?” she asks. 

His eyes are still closed, just the tiniest bit of tension around his eyes to reveal his wakefulness. She’s too tired to temper the desire to run her hand over his cheek, enjoying the scratch of his stubble against her skin. She smiles, remembering how it felt other places on her skin. 

His eyes flutter open, warm and brown, followed by an unguarded smile. “Morning.” 

“So how are you going to convince the council to go to Scarif?” 

He chuckles, more a soft vibration than anything else. “I’m not speaking to the Council.” 

“What?” Jyn frowns, propping herself up on her elbow to look down at him. What does that mean? He’s playing with her. He’s the one the Rebels trust. He  _ has  _ to speak. Who else can convince them to get off their sorry butts, and act? 

Cassian sighs and rolls onto his back, one hand behind his head. “You have a gift, Jyn. If anyone can convince them, it’s you.” 

He’s crazy. “I think you hit your head.” 

The smile he gives her then, naked from the waist up, is sexy as hell, and Jyn’s ready to end the conversation right there until he says: “I don’t know what’s more amazing: that you can charm anyone with that surly attitude or that you really don’t actually intend to do it.” 

Jyn snorts, leaning over him. “I don’t...charm...people…” On the last word, she closes the distance between them, pressing her lips to his. 

Cassian responds eagerly, opening up to her as Jyn moves to straddle him. She didn’t take the time to properly appreciate him the night before, the fine layer of muscles, the scattered scars. Her hands run over his torso. She leans back to admire her hands as they trail patterns down his chest. 

“Bodhi, the Guardians, Mon Mothma even seems to like you,” Cassian lists despite the occasional catch in his breath as she finds a sensitive spot. “You’ve almost won Kay over,  and he’s a droid.” 

Jyn shifts on top of Cassian, rubbing against him with a grin. “You collected Bodhi, not me.” 

He finally moves, grabbing her hips to keep her in place as he sits up. “But he stayed because of you, because he can’t give up on you and your belief in your father.” 

Her father...who’s dead...who wanted them to destroy the Death Star. Jyn runs a hand through Cassian’s hair, pushing it back from his face with a sigh, mood effectively ruined. “Do you think we can do it? Get the plans with the help of the Alliance?” 

His eyes turn speculative as his fingers run over her back in contemplation. “Perhaps. With the whole force of the armada. But I’ve always been better at espionage.” 

“Could we do it with any less?” She wants to keep her expectations reasonable. They have to do this, but she’d like to minimize the risks and get out of this alive, if possible. “A small team to infiltrate the base and get the plans. The armada to clear the way out?” 

Jyn leans forward, kissing up Cassian’s neck, too fascinated with the expanse of skin to stop, even as they talk strategy. 

“Even that will be risky,” Cassian whispers against the skin of her shoulder. “Casualties would be high.” 

“But if it means the Rebellion can destroy the Death Star…” She doesn’t dare finish the sentence, leaving it hanging. 

“Then it would be worth it,” Cassian says. He looks into her eyes as he speaks, conveying the truth of his words in the tone, in the emotion that lurks in the brown iris. 

“It would be worth it,” she echoes before closing the distance between them and sealing her lips against his. She pours everything she has into the kiss, reigniting the passion she felt earlier. If he stands with her, then maybe this will all turn out alright. 

And if it doesn’t at least they had this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic and thank you so much for reading!! Comments/kudos/bookmarks are greatly appreciated!


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